


Raindrops on Roses and Madness Unending

by Megan



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Setting Interpretation, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Lovecraftian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-29
Updated: 2012-12-29
Packaged: 2017-11-22 20:05:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/613760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megan/pseuds/Megan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the events on the asteroid end a bit differently than they did in canon, the trolls need a pilot to get them past the Scratch. Rose and Feferi know where they need to go for help. (Or, Rose and Feferi's magical field trip into the Furthest Ring.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Raindrops on Roses and Madness Unending

**Author's Note:**

  * For [urbanAnchorite (t_ZM)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/t_ZM/gifts).



> Feferi gets up after Eridan's wwhite science; Sollux doesn't. Game on.
> 
> I have, naturally, taken extreme liberties with the cosmology of the universe and the origin of the game. I make no claims that it meshes with canon, because I'm a pirate who sails the dangerous waters of the AU tag.

The first thing you notice when you step into the Furthest Ring is the _color_. There are no words in any language you know to describe what you see; they are colors, but not in any shade you can begin to describe except to reference a Lovecraft story you read once. These are surely his _colours out of space_ , oscillating in a nauseating spectrum of wrongness. It could almost pass for an inverse of Light and Rain, this planet of the horrorterrors you're standing on.

You're not sure why you expected meeting the monsters in their own territory would be anything less than gut-wrenchingly incomprehensible. Before— that had been on your own terms, power they had offered you for a price that was understandable. Now the two of you are here to beg their aid, and they will know you cannot walk away from them no matter what they ask, not without catastrophic consequences.

"It's laid out like the game, sea?" Feferi points up into the roiling sky, and you rather hate that you can already _hear_ the puns when she speaks. You've only known her for a few hours outside of a text medium, so the fact you're recognizing them is is ridiculous. But she does have a point: up there in the sky, lit by a sun that might even be this spectrum's equivalent of green, is a very familiar-looking portal. "I betta we have to go up there."

"I think you're right," you say, because it's true. And the sooner you get to the portal, the sooner you can talk to a member of the Noble Circle of Horrorterrors. You can see the path laid out before you; the most auspicious path darkens and dies in the juncture where Feferi gets up and the troll who could have piloted the asteroid _without_ the aid and protection of the horrorterrors doesn't, but brightens again when she tells one of the trolls you've barely met to _get up and krill him, Equius, that's an order from your heiress!_ Had that not happened, you think your timeline would have been doomed.

You hope your powers will let you tell the difference between a timeline with some hope of success and a completely doomed one.

Utterly disconcerting landscape aside, this world is... well, rather boring. Once you learn to dodge the bubbles that periodically erupt from the ground and rise in the air until they pop far overhead, there isn't much to do besides walk onward in the direction you _think_ the denizen of this world is in. Boring, that is, until a tiny, burbling slime creature undulates up towards Feferi's feet.

"Hello!" She kneels down in front of it, because _clearly_ that is the correct course of action when an unknown creature approaches one in a Lovecraftian nightmare world. You are more comfortable with such things than most and even _you_ are reaching for your wands. "Aren't you ador—able!"

It _is_ adorable. It is the slime equivalent of a squiddle. That means it's probably the most dangerous thing on this planet, aside from the denizen.

It spits a very small skull onto the ground in front of Feferi.

"Oh, is that for me?" She asks, and picks up the skull. It makes a sound that stands your hair on end, and Feferi's smile gets even wider. "Thank you!"

It oozes off, making squelching noises the entire time.

"A baby horrorterror just gave you another baby horrorterror's skull." You don't think you've ever sounded as incredulous as you do now. This is _The Call of Cthulhu_ as presented by Walt Disney Pictures, and you've just been cast as the wise-cracking sidekick to a real eldritch princess. Next thing you know, she'll be singing a high, lilting song about how her horrorterror friends will make for her dreams come true. "You speak their _language_."

"Well, of course I do," she says, all wide-eyed, innocent madness. "My lusus was the emissary to the horrorterrors."

You are so, _so_ jealous. Newly wary of them or not, you think your life would have improved _significantly_ with a horrorterror for a mother.

It happens again and again: flying eyeballs bring her horrifying flowers, skeletal birds drape decaying vines over her shoulders like a stole, and slime monsters bring her enough tiny bones to start a backyard pet cemetery. But nothing does anything aggressive, not to Feferi and not to you. It's the version of Snow White you would have preferred as a child, alien princess, forbidden songs, and all.

When you get to where this world's denizen should have been, it gets even stranger; the monsters really do sing here, and their otherworldly hum is almost soothing in its strangeness. As you get closer you can almost pick out words you shouldn't know, words that threaten to turn you grimdark if you listen too hard. Feferi, though— Feferi is crying.

"Gl'bgolyb." She sniffles, and wipes a gold-bangled arm over her eyes. "They're mourning for Gl'bgolyb. This was her planet before she came to Alternia as the emissary— that's why they keep bringing me things."

She pulls herself together after that, though, and you can't help but respect her for it; she has just come across a funeral for what is essentially her dead mother, and she's lost _two_ boyfriends in one day. This girl is, as your Strider genetics would say, for fucking real. Stone _cold_ , even.

"We should keep going." Her voice still shakes a little, in a way that has nothing to do with the bubbling tone she always has. "I'm sorry— she died awhile ago, I shouldn't be making a scene."

You listen to her and keep going. It's what you would want her to do, if your positions were reversed.

***

The second world you enter is even stranger than the first; in addition to the terrifying color to everything, the geometry here would send Euclid straight into gibbering terror. And it's _muddy_ , so muddy that Feferi's feet squelch with every step she takes. You solve that problem for yourself by hovering over the ground and floating along; finally, your god tier-given ability to fly is _useful_ as well as ostentatious.

That's about the time a walking cephalopod comes up to you with a string of bones in its tentacles and holds them out. It completely ignores Feferi, looking only at you and making it very clear who the gift is for.

Oh, no. You aren't that kind of eldritch princess. Yes, you dressed up a salamander in a tiny outfit and named him the Viceroy. Yes, you enjoy dressing up and having tea parties with your tentacle-faced cat. You are a very, _very_ aggressively feminine ilttle girl, but you draw the line at having a Disney song moment with these creatures. Mostly because you have no desire to sing.

"Absolutely not," you say, and to its credit, it slinks off rather than insist you accept the gift. Between its recognition of you and the squidlike countenance of the denizen, you're fairly certain you're walking on Fluthulhu's planet.

"You didn't have to be so anemone-an," Feferi says. She's _really_ stretching with that particular fish pun. "She just wanted to give you a present."

"Is there a Troll Walt Disney?" You ask. If there isn't one, you're going to have to come up with a new metaphor to explain your distaste. And if nothing else, idle conversation might distract her from the planet you've just left.

"I've never heard of him," Feferi says, and she doesn't sniffle. _Success._

"Human Walt Disney made movies about princesses and fairies and noble maidens who go on quests to save the world and get married," you say. "It's all very wide-eyed and gender-essentialist, and thus I _loathe_ those films. A disconcerting number of them involve princesses singing with magical, talking animals."

"Oh," Feferi said. "You mean like Troll Don Bluth!"

Of course. It just figures that Fox would be the reigning animation studio on Alternia, given their shared penchant for tasteful musclebeast art. But at least that means there's probably a Troll Anastasia Romanov for Feferi to compare the example to. (Yes, you have seen that movie. Yes, you loathe that movie, too.)

"I _love_ In Which A Secret Tyrian Raised As A Rustblood Reuintes With Her Blueblood Childhood Friend And The Two Of Them Make An Illicit Escape From The Planet To Discover Their Destiny In Space And Come To Terms With Her Royal Heritage—" Feferi stops giving you the movie title, possibly because your eyes are starting to glaze over. Yes, you called it right about Troll Anastasia Romanov, because that certainly sounds like some bizarre summary of the movie you remember.

"Then you understand why I am reluctant to become a movie cliche," you say.

"Not really!" Feferi says. At least she sounds more cheerful now. "Hey, could you fly us up to the portal? The cuttlefish here have the wrong number of tentacles," and here she lowers her voice to a stage whisper, "and it's starting to creep me out! I know they can't help it, so I don't want to say anything."

She's afraid of offending the denizens by insinuating they _have the wrong number of tentacles_ as compared to Alternian fauna. Perhaps there hasn't been a Troll Walt Disney yet because he's going to rise to prominence in the new universe when this is all over, chronicling the tale of an Alternian princess who befriends undead monsters.

"Well, _excuse me, princess_." You hadn't really meant to say anything sarcastic to her, let alone a pop culture reference that will go over her head because she's an alien who's never seen a television spinoff of a Nintendo game. It's your Strider tendencies raising their head again— funny how that's happening more often now that you know about the genetic connection. (If nothing else, Dave will be so jealous he will languish in it for _weeks_ that you got to say it to Feferi first.) "I will attempt to police the number of tentacles on my newfound friends, if it makes you feel better."

"Oh, no!" She honestly looks horrified at the thought. You cannot handle this. 

***

Flying to the portal works. Which is a relief, really, because you aren't particularly looking forward to bargaining with Fluthulhu. Everything that's happened recently has dampened your enthusiasm for making unnecessary deals with powers beyond your control, for obvious reasons.

You still have Feferi clinging to you like an extremely excited barnacle; you weren't about to let her swim through the murky water that covers this entire world, gills or not. You're fairly certain that both Karkat and Equius will have a great many words for you if you get the heiress to the Alternian empire killed. Those words will be mildly unpleasant, not to mention that letting her die will probably doom the timeline. So the two of you float above the surface. There is no portal overhead here, just a pitch-black sky dotted with faint, twinkling stars and a low-hanging moon that shines white light down onto the water. _Real_ white, which is absolutely refreshing after so long seeing colors that your brain can't quite comprehend.

There is no sign of anything between you and where the moon touches the water at the horizon.

"Maybe we have to dive underwater," Feferi suggests. "I really think the water here is okay, Rose! I can usually tell if it's not, because it would smell weird."

Before either of you can further argue the merit of diving, the still water in front of you comes to life: churning and bubbling, until something begins to break the surface and you drag Feferi back away.

The water that hits your face when you're not quite fast enough is ordinary salt water, and you suddenly feel silly for insisting she stay out of it. Unless water is different on Alternia, that is— for all you've spent so much time talking to them online, you really don't know that much about trolls, do you? You'll have to ask Kanaya, when you get back.

As it rises up out of the water, you see _it_ is actually _her_ , a half-woman, half-serpent rising up from the blackness with a spray of mist around her. And, you realize, you recognize her. The pink of her scales is slick with an iridescence that puts you unpleasantly in mind of the first two planets you traversed to get here, rather than the bright, shifting reflection of Light and Rain. But she is unquestionably the same denizen you had seen sleeping there.

"You look surprised," Cetus says. Her voice is awful, like a thousand bells all tuned absolutely _wrong_. "If you didn't figure it out with all the clues you've been given here, I chose more than one Light player badly."

"It's SGRUB," Feferi says. She's still clinging to you, a slight weight that's probably more than half hair to begin with. "Though the other way around, I mean! You need players to help you stop the destruction of the universe, so you're behind the game and you set it up to look like the Furthest Ring."

"It seems Hemera is a better judge of character and intellect than I am." Cetus coils up on herself, so her gargantuan head and shoulders are closer to your level. "I know why you are here— you wish to enter the new game session, and you believe that the Noble Circle can get you there."

You nod. Feferi holds on tighter. Cetus' voice is a wind, making your cape flap and Feferi's hair fly everywhere.

"You are correct," she says. "We could allow you to travel through our realm to another little mortal universe. The price we asked of you would not be great, for such a small thing— especially since Hemera's witch did us a great service today."

_Get up and krill him, Equius!_ had brightened the timeline before you in more ways than one. It's the only thing you can think of, unless the trolls had left out large parts of their adventure that _also_ just happened to be shrouded from your sight.

"In fact, so far as we are concerned, Witch of Life, your debt for this is paid." It's impossible to tell where Cetus is looking when her field of vision is so much larger than you yourself are, but you think she's focusing on you now. "Your price will come later, Seer of Light. I trust you will be prepared to pay it, when the time comes."

And that's it. No riddles, no negotiation, nothing. You don't even get the chance to ask what your price is going to be before Cetus slides down into the water and takes what seems like half the ocean water down with her in a vortex strong enough to start pulling the air around you down with it.

You aren't floating anymore; you're falling, down into the cold water and around the whirlpool where Cetus had descended a moment ago. You hold your breath as long as you can, Feferi towing you down through the water as fast as she can, but you can only go so long. And this death could be considered either heroic _or_ just, couldn't it? Heroic because you're giving your life to save everyone else in the universe, in _every_ universe, and just because of the devil's bargain you're making to do it.

You don't want to die. You're thirteen and a half, you've just found out one of your best friends is really your brother in a weird and complicated way, and you just met the girl you think you might like. Your cat has come back from the dead as a magic tentacled princess and he can talk to you. You can do magic, you can make yourself any outfit you want, and you've got entire new realms of questionable zoology to study. Your life is actually kind of awesome right now, and _you don't want to die_.

It sounds life Feferi says _hold on!_ , but it's hard to tell with her voice distorted by the rushing water and the burning in your lungs the only thing you can think about. You're going to breathe, and then you're going to die.

Except you don't, because suddenly there's no more water and you're falling onto something extremely knobbly.

"Oh, _fuck_ ," Dave says, because you have just landed on him. You're on the asteroid, and you're not even wet, just catching your breath like the drowned girl you almost just were. "Please tell me that when this rock started moving you were the one who did it, because otherwise we have more to worry about than _you breaking every rib in my body_."

Nobody with every rib in his body broken can talk like that, so you just waggle your eyebrows mysteriously.

"Yes, it was us!" Feferi has, of course, landed much more gracefully. It probably helps that she was swimming, not flailing around preparing for her death throes. And also that she's the one starring in the Disney adaptation; this is old-school, where the princess is nothing but dainty and dignified. There's not even mud on her shoes.

You know almost nothing right now: not how long it will take you to get there, not how your journey will work, and certainly not when or in what form your price will show up. You do know that you _will_ get there, though, because the path lies before you bright and colorful (in colors you know, colors you have words and concepts for) and more auspicious than it's ever been.

**Author's Note:**

> I really, really hope you're okay with this being gen! Originally I had intended to ship it spades, but in the end they were just too _thirteen_ for me to do anything but fumble them in the direction of eventual frond--ship.


End file.
